That Secret Place
by ilikecrystals
Summary: The Prequel to Chapters 4 & 5 of 'The Bet'. Warnings: Rebellious Sam/Angry Dean, Corporal punishment/Hard spanking of a male child by a male teenager, the realization of machochistic tendencies and humpage/climax. Reviews would be awesome!


Title: That Secret Place  
Rating: Mature  
Author: ilikecrystals  
Scenario: Dean Spanks Sam  
Implement Used: Hand  
Summary: The Prequel to Chapters 4 & 5 of The Bet  
Warnings: Gosh, where do I start? It's **Rebellious Sam/Angry Dean**, **Corporal punishment/Hard spanking **of a **male child **by a **male teenager**, the realization of **machochistic tendencies **and **humpage/climax. **If I've missed any sick and twistedness, please let me know so I can post. Be warned, ok and don't flame me. Vulnerable right now so can't really deal. Approx 4700 words.

**Author's Note/Standard Message:** This story contains **SPANKING** of an unconsenting male child by a male teenager. If you don't like these kinds of stories, please don't read. Please point out any errors or crap writing so I can fix. I love constructive criticism and reviews so bring 'em! :D

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_When Sam turns twelve, he learns a dirty little secret. _

_About himself._

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Sam slams his books into his backpack, yanking up the zipper and throwing it into his chair, huffing his breath out in exasperation.

Maybe Sam wants to stay up late and study! Maybe he doesn't want to remember to eat or shower and what the fuck is it to Dean, anyway?

But, no, his brother won't leave him the hell alone, not even for a stupid minute! Comes and gets him at school, makes him eat and then times him, fucking _times_ him, while he's doing his homework! Got freaking radar and seems to know exactly when Sam's finished and just wants to read more for pleasure. Then, after Dean's checked over his work, he's pulling him off his chair (and yeah, Sam's clinging to it, ok?) and pushing him towards the bathroom, telling him to take a shower and get ready for bed.

Like he's a fucking kid!

He's _twelve_, not a baby, and he can take care of himself, make his own decisions and he wasn't finished with that chapter, goddamn it!

He shoots a dark look at Dean, who smirks back at him and makes a shooing motion with his hand towards the bathroom. Grumbling, Sam grabs his pajamas, clean shorts and stalks towards the shower. Sometimes he hates his fucking brother!

#

It's been going on like this for two months now, since Dad dropped them off here, and Dean had become a stupid dictator (or _dick_-tator, Sam mutters to himself) and Sam's had just about _enough_.

Yeah, he knows Dean's doing it 'cause he loves him and in quiet moments, in the back of his mind, Sam's grateful but he feels it building inside him, the frustration, the defiance because Dean won't let him have even one choice, about anything and it's not fucking fair!

And it seems like whenever he doesn't do what Dean says, God punishes him, like life is waggling a finger in his face, saying 'unh, unh, unh, oh, no, you don't'-

Like the morning he rebelled, threw his whole breakfast in the trash when Dean wasn't looking because he told his stupid brother he wasn't _hungry_, damn it and Dean should've listened! He'd ended up with such a headache and he'd fallen asleep in first period, having to take home a note. When Dean had seen it, and found the food in the trash, he'd been lectured for almost a half an hour.

Sometimes, he hates the sound of Dean's stupid voice.

Or last night after lights out, he'd made himself stay awake, staring at the ceiling, waiting for Dean to fall asleep. After his brother was snoring in the next bed, Sam had snuck out and guzzled three beers from the fridge, feeling all big and bad. The alcohol had hit him hard and he'd slid down to the floor, waves of dizziness making his head spin, his gut clenching as his stomach lurched, and he's almost barfed up his dinner-

Fought it off and sat there, swallowing hard, too drunk to even make it back to bed, vision swimming in and out, fuzzy thoughts, hard to keep straight even though he kept shaking his head to clear it-

That was the last he knew until Dean was there, shaking him awake, bringing him back to reality, a pissed off stomach and screaming head and he'd shivered, cold chills racking through him-

Dean had yelled at him all the way back to bed, tucking him in with firm shoves of the blanket under the mattress, his angry voice ringing in Sam's ears, "What the hell, Sammy? What the hell?"

Dean just didn't understand-

This morning, hung over and exhausted, Sam picked at his breakfast while Dean's lecture rolled over him in waves and when his brother had demanded answers, Sam had none to give, shrugging miserably.

He can't talk to Dean about it so why even try? It's the same argument he always has with his father and neither of them _get_ it-

Making him toe the line, not giving him choices, not letting him do what the fuck he wants to do, _anything_ he wants to do, is killing him, suffocating him and-

He knows he's supposed to do what Dean tells him because Dean's older and he calls the shots and that's the way it is-

But Sam's a person, too! With rights and thoughts and wants! And something inside him can't do blind obedience, just can't and with each expectation, with each barked request, that something stretches a little bit tighter-

And right now, he feels pulled so thin that he doesn't know if he ever can unwind and that something's gonna break, crack wide open because he can't take this rope constantly wrapped around his freaking neck-

How can he tell his brother that he can't breathe, that he can't get this fucking weight off his shoulders, that he just can't take it anymore and the anger inside him is a black hole, eating away a little bit more of Sam every day-

#

Dean's hand slams down on the table, bringing him back to now, making him jump in his skin, "Damn it, Sammy, tell me what the hell's going on with you! Why won't you fucking talk to me?"

And Sam just stares down into his Lucky Charms, shaking his head with tears in his eyes, and knows he's an ungrateful shit because Dean loves him so much and he should be glad to do as Dean asks-

Why the hell isn't he glad to do what Dean asks?

He pushes away his breakfast, heart numb and cold as ice, and lurches up, chair screeching across the floor as he grabs his backpack in a rush and hurries out the door.

"You better wait for me, Sam!" Dean's voice follows after him and he pulls a face, sticks out his tongue at his brother but Dean doesn't see so it falls flat and he huffs out a breath, staring off into the distance as he waits.

The walk to school is done in silence and he can feel Dean's eyes on him, studying him, trying to figure out what's happening with him but he keeps his own gaze firmly on the ground.

At school, Dean's hand lands heavy on his arm, "I'll be here to pick you up after school, like always."

Sam pulls away, runs up the steps without a backward glance but he knows Dean is standing there, watching him until he gets inside.

His classes are a blur, the pissed-off thing inside him raging and biting at him and when the final bell sounds, the dread that claws through him is a living thing, sliding around his gut and gripping there-

He can't do it, not again-

Can't go home and be ordered around like a fucking dog on a leash.

He just wants a little goddamn respect, is that too much to ask? To be treated like a fucking person, like a human being?

He walks slowly to the front doors, sees Dean through the glass, waiting there for him and just like that-

He snaps.

Before he knows it, Sam's turning, running down the hall and towards the back of the school, threading his way through the surge of bodies all going in the other direction and he's out the gymnasium doors, into sunlight and taking in great wuffs of clean air, trying to calm his jangling skin.

Christ, he can't believe he ran. Dean's gonna be so pissed at him! For one moment, a tiny voice inside him tells him to go back and he almost listens, cause he loves Dean and doesn't want to hurt him and he knows this is gonna hurt him big time-

Then he spies the woods behind the school and freedom beckons to him and without another thought to Dean, he's running down the hill towards the trees, long gazelle legs streaking him away until a cramp takes him down and he's huffing out breath, holding his side, laying on the moss covered floor of a towering forest. It's so quiet, so still, his gasps are the only sound cutting the air and it's calm, peaceful as he closes his eyes, listening to the silence.

No one bitching, no one ordering…

A wave of tranquil water-

#

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He jerks awake with a start, surprised that night has fallen and the stars are twinkling over him, the breeze stirring his clothes is cool and delicious and the moss is soft under his head. He stretches lazily before realizing where he is and what he did and he jerks upright fast, stumbling to his feet with a low groan. Shit, Dean's gonna kick his ass!

Sam scrambles to his feet, shouldering his book bag and starting the climb back up, the steep hill stealing his breath and tingling through his thighs from the exertion, heading back in the general direction of school. Hitting the road, he stumbles to the motel, hoping that Dean is asleep already because he really doesn't want to have to face his raging brother tonight-

He twists the key silently in the lock, turns the knob quietly and hopes like hell the door doesn't creak because he'll be screwed. But it pushes inward without a sound and he tiptoes in, breaths a deep sigh of relief and makes his way to his bed, toeing off his shoes as he circles the mattress-

The room floods with light.

"Sam."

_Oh, shit!_

His shoulders hunch around his ears and he turns, putting a hand onto the bed for balance and meets his brother's glittering green eyes.

Damn, he's never seen Dean so pissed before.

"Where the fuck have you been?" Dean's voice is deadly, cutting through the air, pure fury that digs under his skin and makes him cringe back.

"Out." Sam can't manage much more than that in the face of Dean's rage, his stomach rolling and bobbing in his gut-

"Out where?" Dean's face is like stone, the only movement is his Adam's apple jerking up and down as he swallows hard.

Sam mutters, lying through his teeth, although why he doesn't know, "Out with friends, Dean, is that ok with you?"

And Dean snaps, had enough, "What fucking friends, Sam? Do you know what the hell time it is? Or how fucking worried I've been about you? I thought you were dead or something, so what the hell? Where were you?"

Sam shoots back, "I don't need you worrying about me, Dean, I can take care of myself! Why don't you just mind your own fucking business! "

Things spiral down pretty quick after that.

It's a blur because one minute, he's standing upright, yelling at Dean and the next, he's yanked forward, off balance and falling hard, face down, across his brother's lap, staring at the carpet, blinking fast, breath shuddering out of his chest because he doesn't know how the fuck he just got here-

Hands are fumbling underneath him, yanking his jeans down over his butt and to his knees, his underwear following a second later and he's naked to the wind, cool air wafting across and how the hell did this happen so fast?

His face flushes beet red because he suddenly realizes the position he's in and what's going to happen next, only one possible outcome with being bare ass across Dean's thighs and Sam squirms to get away-

_What the fuck does Dean think he's doing?_

He digs in with his elbows, into Dean's hard leg under him, wiggling frantically, trying to push himself off, get the fuck out of here but Dean's arm lands on his back, pinning him in place easy-

His voice is a harsh growl in Sam's ear, "I've been looking all over town for you, you selfish little prick, I was fucking crazy with worry and then you waltz in here and tell me to mind my own business? You are my business, Sammy-"

He feels Dean shift, a flex of thighs underneath him and then-

_SMACK!_

_Holy fuck!_

The slash of fire across his rear end makes him jolt forward, gasp for breath because _shit, that fucking hurts! _ The yelp out of his throat is involuntary, automatic and he's huffing in breaths, shaking bad because he feels Dean move again, flex and-

CRACK!

"Ow! Owww! Dean, stop!" And _God, that hurts like hell_, burning across his butt cheek and he's panting, trying not to yell but shit!

"You are my fucking business, Sam!" And Dean's hand comes down again, the flat of his palm slamming into Sam's cheek and _God, it burns-_

"Ahhh!" the cry rips out of Sam's throat and he bucks hard, kicking his feet on the floor as the pain blooms red fire in his mind-

Dean's hand lands again, solid iron, right where his thigh meets his butt and _shit, shit! _

"Ouch! Ow! Dean, don't-"

Sam kicks and squirms because Dean's landing slaps one on top of the other and it's ripping into his skin, and he can't believe his stupid brother is _spanking_ him for Christ's sake, he's twelve years old and Dean hasn't spanked him in like forever because-

Well, Dean _doesn't_ spank him, he just doesn't-

The heat spreads fast and Sam hears himself whimper because Dean's hitting hard and fast, worse than Dad ever did-

"Dean, stop! Lemme up!"

Dean's angry voice washes over him, "What does 'I'll be here to pick you up after school' mean to you, Sam!"

And Dean's hand slashes down with each word, cutting into his flesh, searing flames with each crack, "It! Means! I'll! Be! Here! To! Pick! You! Up! After! School!"

And he's trying to hold it in, he really is, biting on his lower lip hard, won't cry, won't give his asshole brother the satisfaction, and the air whooshes out of his lungs with each stinging slap as he wiggles and twists across his brother's lap-

"You get that, Sam? It doesn't mean you can take off and do what the hell you want! It means you wait for me! Wait for me all fucking day if I'm not there but you-" And Dean's hand cuts into him again, smacking over and over, "Fucking! Wait! For! Me!"

Dean stops talking then and just starts spanking, and Sam can't control his body anymore, it's thrashing all by itself now and he's arching up, back muscles straining as he tries to pull his ass in but it's not working and the angry red throb in his backside is building, climbing fast until it's his whole world, all he knows, and blinding tears fill his eyes, it's too much, can't hold it in anymore-

And he breaks, voice shattering hoarse, cracked and raw, and he's sobbing, hollering loud enough to shake the rafters because his butt is blazing and smoking, and his tone climbs higher with each slam of Dean's palm, "Dean, stop. Dean..Stop! DEAN, STOP!"

But Dean just keeps goddamn _hitting_-

"OW! Dean! Dean, NO! Stop, God, please…" And he reaches back a hand, tries to cover himself, yelping at the top of his lungs, "OUCH! OW! Ow-ow-ow! Dean, please!"

Dean pulls Sam's hand up his back and shoves him further over onto one thigh, making Sam fall forward and Sam catches himself before his face hits the ground, his hand landing on the floor, holding himself up and Dean's throwing a leg over his kicking ones, holding him down completely now and he can't even move-

Another smack lands and Sam's done, finished, collapsing across his brother's hard thigh and sobbing, crying like a baby but he can't help it, can't stop it, the pain in his rear end is sharp and bright, pinging in his brain like shots of electricity and all he can do is repeat brokenly, piteously, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

But Dean doesn't hear, doesn't stop, just lashes into him again and that's when Sam finally realizes that he's pushed Dean too far this time, his brother's in a dark rage, beyond anger, beyond reason-

_He's like this because of you, because you're so selfish and self-centered and you hurt him bad this time_, Sam thinks wildly and he's so sorry, can't stand that he did this to Dean, he deserves this, deserves every swat, every smack of fire being delivered to his sore ass and he's so Christ Almighty _sorry_-

He needs this, needs Dean to punish him so it'll be ok between them and Dean will love him again, be his brother again because he's an awful, horrible person who _should_ be punished-

And he's lifting up, sobbing and straining to meet Dean's hand crashing down on him, needing the pain, needing the agony, the heat of it to wash over him-

Needs Dean to forgive him-

All the fight's gone out of him and he's so fucking tired all of a sudden, like he could sleep for a year and his brain starts to get fuzzy around the edges and he feels twinges of something else, twisting in his gut, something black and sweet, building from the heat in his backside.

It's filling him, branding him, all hot fire and molten lava under his skin-

Flicks of pleasure with the pain, little sparks, subtle at first and then _right there_-

A ball of heat and lust that Sam feels rolling and pitching in his belly, a surge of fire that curls around his balls and fills his cock with blood, with passion-

What the hell?

He's-

He's getting _hard._

He's getting a goddamn hard-on from Dean _spanking_ him-

Knows that's the reason because each time Dean's hand lands on his fiery ass, his cock grows and throbs-

No, this…this can't be happening, it fucking hurts like hell so how the fuck is he-

Humiliation crashes into him, his face burns with it and he buries his head in an arm, hoping that Dean won't see, won't feel Sam's dick on his thigh-

He gives a moan of anguish and hitches his hips forward when Dean wallops into his butt cheek, manages a good rub on his heated dick before falling backwards and ho, fuck, he could _come_ from this…can feel it building in him even now, the silvery curl of it licking into him and how the Christ is this happening? Sam's jerked himself off enough to know…it's gonna happen damn soon unless Dean stops spanking him and Sam's whimpering, trying to stop the climb up but he can't, can't stop any of it because Dean won't stop hitting him-

So Sam's sobbing and rubbing, bucking his cock into Dean's hard thigh, snot hanging from his nose, swearing over and over again that he's sorry and it won't happen again, won't ever happen again-

God, Dean's hand, so hard, so firm, making Sam mind him, not taking any shit but commanding respect, demanding obedience and Sam can't help it-

Has to rub, has to grind himself down onto that delicious leg-

And the pain isn't as bad now, not as intense and even though Dean's still walloping him as hard as ever, Sam's welcoming it, raising into it.

Wanting it.

_Needing it._

Like he's never needed anything so bad in his life-

God, he's hungry for it, the pain and the fire, and he wants more of it, wants it to fill him, consume him and burn him, cleanse him with the flames-

And he's so close, so _fucking_ close, humping on Dean's thigh like he's possessed and it's climbing up to the top, to the apex, desperate and hungry and he's pushing his ass out towards the blows raining down on him, begging for more-

"You fucking ever do that again, Sam, I will rip you a new ass, do you understand me?"

_God, more-_

"You come straight home!" CRACK!

"You eat your dinner!" SLAP!

"You do your homework!" WHAP!

_Yes, God, yes!_

"You take a shower and you go to fucking bed!" SMACK!

_God, so good!_

"You do _not_ leave school without me!" SLAP!

"You will tell me where you are at all times!" SMACK!

_Shit, ahhh…god damn it!_

"Do you fucking understand me?" And Dean brings his hand down hard, across both cheeks at once and that's it-

Sam reaches it, the crescendo, the fucking mountain top and flies off into the sky, crying out as he shoots his load all over his brother's leg, humping with each spurt of white cream that covers Dean's thigh and then he collapses-

At peace-

In a wonderful place, all soft and velvet and safe, cocooned in warmth and surrounded in love and he doesn't have to _do_ anything or answer to anyone, just has to rest and relax, breath in and out and think of nothing, clear his mind and let the bad slip away-

Let Dean have control.

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Dean's staring down at his brother and Sam's just laying there, not moving, hardly breathing and other than the fact that he just jizzed all over Dean's leg, Dean would think he was asleep-

"Sammy-" It's a worried whisper and Dean rubs his hot, aching palm over Sam's beaten flesh, feeling the fire of it through his skin but Sam's not responding, eyes focused far away-

He gives Sam's body a shake and nothing, lights are on but no one's home, and he's starting to get really worried now, maybe a brain embolism or stroke, brought on by the harsh spanking? Holy shit, did he just maim his brother for life? The one fucking time he spanks Sam in anger, this has to happen and the fear in his gut rises up, makes it hard to breathe and he's shaking harder now, starting to cry out Sam's name as he just lays there across Dean's lap, boneless, expressionless-

When Sam stirs, he almost bursts into relieved tears.

"You ok, Sammy?" And he rubs up the slender back with a rough touch, trying to get the circulation going.

"Yes, sir." Sam's voice is a soft whisper and he turns his head back to look up at Dean, face blotched and red from crying, hair stringy and hanging in his eyes, "May I get up now?"

"Sure, yeah, we're done." And Dean helps him stand, pulling up underwear and jeans as Sam hisses in pain, locking eyes on each other as Dean questions, "What happened, Sam?"

His brother shrugs and rubs at his eyes with a dirty palm, smearing grime across his face, giving Dean a distant smile, "I don't know."

When Sam sees the mess on Dean's thigh, the white glops smeared on the denim, he immediately limps to the bathroom, coming back fast with a washcloth and drops to his knees, washing Dean off carefully.

Dean studies him the whole time, trying to figure out what's going on in Sam's head but he can't for the life of him get a handle on it. It's like Sam isn't all there, like part of him is still in that place, where he was before, when Dean couldn't rouse him.

When Sam finishes washing Dean's pants, he leans in, and Dean feels a soft kiss on his cheek, Sam's words almost a whisper, "Thank you, Dean. I'm so tired, so tired…can I-can I go to bed now?"

Dean frowns at him, narrowing his eyes, studying him, eyebrows knitted together as he tries to puzzle it out, "Sure, Sammy, I guess. You're gonna have to do your homework in the morning, though, so no bitching about it. I'll get you up early so you have enough time."

"Yes, sir." Sam is bobbing his head fast, sweet smile playing on his mouth, "I'll…I'll make us breakfast after I'm done."

"Sure, ok." Dean's confused and off-balance, staring into Sam's far away eyes before blurting out, "Sammy? You ok?"

"I'm good, Dean." And Sam's eyes are soft, smiling, "Really good."

Dean's not convinced, not at all but Sam _does_ look tired and…

Actually he looks relieved, almost serene and Dean can't figure it, Sam should be pissed off at him, hating his guts and stomping away-

Sam starts to get up, turning away and Dean reaches out, grabs his arm, "Sam, tomorrow, you and me are gonna talk and I want the truth out of you. You're gonna tell me what you're so pissed off about-"

"Dean-"

"No, Sam. You think I won't understand so you don't talk and it keeps building up inside you until shit like this happens! I'm telling you right now that I will do my _damndest_ to understand and to help but you gotta let me! Tomorrow, you spill your guts and I want all of it, are we clear?"

Sam moves fast, throwing his arms around Dean's neck and hugging tight, mumbling a 'Yes, sir' into his shoulder, and Dean pats at the trembling back awkwardly, "Ok, into bed with you-"

"Mmmm, 'night, Dean." And Sam kisses his cheek again before lurching to his feet and shuffling to his bedroom, one hand rubbing gently at his butt cheeks and Dean watches him go, blowing on his spanking hand before shaking it out, trying to ease the burn in it-

_What the fuck?_

#

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Sam crawls under the covers and stretches out, arms above his head, toes curling as he pops and pulls every joint, cracking every bone.

His ass burns like hell and he reaches down and behind, rubbing his hand over it, feeling the heat pulsing out of his skin and he presses down into the mattress, wants to pull out every sting, every sharp bite that's been laid on him.

He wriggles down into it, enjoying the burn, the intensity of it because it reminds him of that safe place, that warm comfort he found himself in-

And it's all from Dean.

He's been spanked plenty in his life, hard not to with John Winchester as a father but never like this, never in anger by his brother and it sparked something in him, turned something on that was dormant, hidden-

A hunger for pain that he never even knew he had-

Correction, a _hunger_ for pain delivered by Dean's hard hand.

He'd never gotten there from spankings by Dad or Uncle Bobby. Nope, it was Dean that was the catalyst, Dean that he needed to please and even though he was a kid, he knew that instinct was ingrained into him.

The spanking had done something else to him.

It had calmed him, made him sane and whole and he didn't know how long this feeling would last but he hoped for a long time because the rage that was always inside him, that he carried around like a shield of armor, was quieted for just a moment, lost in that calm white place and it was good, so good.

He could think for once…he was at peace, for the first time in his life and he could breath again, the weight on his shoulders was gone and he was free.

Finally free of the black anger, that filled him, consumed him-

And it's all because of Dean.

He knows in the back of his mind that this is wrong, sick and even now, he's pushing it down, away, hiding it because he can never let this get out, never tell this to anyone-

Dean's the only one that can give this to him and Dean is the one person he can never tell this to.

He just had the biggest orgasm of his life while his brother was beating his ass and only sick fucks need shit like that, right? Only twisted, broken people need pain like that to…to balance them, to steady them-

To make them feel loved-

He wants to go to that place again and again because he feels so freaking _c__al__m_ inside, tranquil and at peace, finally, thankfully, at peace.

Now, he just had to figure out how to get Dean to do that to him again, without Dean knowing what he's doing, because this is the most awesome feeling in the world and he doesn't want it to end.

It's his secret place and he hugs it to him, already trying to think up ways to piss Dean off, to get him to whip his ass again.

Sleep claims him as his mind plays the tape again, the sound of Dean's flesh hitting his, the bloom of wonderful heat in his backside and the mind-bending orgasm he'd reached at Dean's hands and he smiles, half-conscious, at the sting in his ass as he rolls over onto his back..

Christ he hopes this feeling lasts a long, long time.

#

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- the end-


End file.
